09/03/26
I awoke to the screaming. It was just after 5am and somebody was screaming at the top of their lungs. Not a scary scream or a "help me" scream; no, this scream was a "hell yeah" scream. The kind of scream somebody lets out when they're feelin' pumped and energized and ready to attack the day. Sounded kinda like an islander scream, you know—"CHEE HOO"—but with less joy and more raspiness. And the guy kept on screamin' and his buddy egged him on and I heard the scream as it moved all the way down the parking lot and all I could think of was "of course this is happening right now at five in the freakin' morning." Just when I was about to get some descent sleep from a long night of turning around and around like an old hotdog at a gas station, some dude just had to roll up to the trailhead and elect himself the village alarm clock.
Oh well. Things happen like that sometimes. People is gonna do what people is gonna do. After he left, I rolled around some more, unable to get any sleep whatsoever. So I put away the pad and the bag, sat in the backseat of my car, munched on a Clif Bar, got dressed, grabbed my gear, and then set off for the main course: Mt. Timpanogos.
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| Timpanogos Falls |
I started off slow, my legs a wee bit sore from yesterday's stupid "warm-up" on Y Mountain. And the temps were a wee bit frigid, the wind a wee bit icy, the morning just a wee bit cold. Summer was on its way out, Fall busy steppin' on through the door. And I followed the trail up and up, hikin' past bushes and shrubs and flowers and this big ol' waterfall and the sun slowly crested the horizon, inch by inch, bathing the alpine peaks in golden light.
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| Primrose Cirque, Elk Point left, Robert's Horn right |
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| Switchbacks up the cirque... |
Things began to warm up in the sunlight. Shed some layers, drank some water. Every now and then I'd hear that guy screaming, the raspy "CHEE HOO" echoing across primrose cirque. I tried to see if I could spot him up there on the switchbacks to no avail. Ahh well. Maybe I'd catch up to him. Maybe not. Either way, I was sure to hear more of his screams throughout the day. That was a law of nature.
And so I began my ascent through the cirque, walkin' up steep switchback after steep switchback. There were several places where people had cut the switchbacks, but, being the goody two shoes I am, I disregarded these shortcuts and stuck to trail. On my way up, I passed a group of young guys and one older guy having a philosophical debate. All I heard as I passed them was the young bearded guy sayin' "Y' know, the fastest way up is the slowest way down!" and to this day I have absolutely know idea what he meant by that.
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| Above the cirque, South Timp right |
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| Robert's Horn |
And I crested the cirque and found myself in relaxing alpine terrain, nothin' but dry meadows and stately pines. And then I started headin' towards Robert's Horn and somebody turned on the fans 'cause brother, that wind was
strong. Strong and cold. Bit my face and punched my soul. Time to put on the layers again. That seemed to be one of the major themes of the day: puttin' the jacket on and takin' it off. That and the guy screaming. Hadn't heard him in a while though. Maybe the wind blew him away...
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| Mt. Timpanogos right |
It was soon after donning the layers when I caught sight of Mt. Timpanogos. It was close, real close, but I knew the trail wrapped around to the northeast out of sight, heading towards a prominent saddle. Still had a good amount of walkin' to do.
Along the way, I saw me some mountain goats munchin' on the grass in the distance, a fairly large group of 'em, about a dozen with little ol' babies. And I walked along, giving them a wide berth, following the trail as it entered a rocky, bouldery, talusy, loose area as it curved up to the saddle.
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The bouldery loose area; I went straight for the saddle
in the center |
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| The view just to the right of the above photo |
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| Almost at the saddle |
Lost the trail for a minute, but it didn't really matter 'cause it was obvious where to proceed. Still hadn't heard Mr. CHEE HOO for a while; maybe the wind really did blow him away. Must've been back by Robert's Horn though, 'cause in this bouldery section there wasn't even a trace of a breeze. Just static, cold, silent air. No sound, no screaming. Absolutely wonderful.
And then I reached the saddle and the wind was stronger than ever and everyone was sittin' on the northeast side, tryin' to stay out of its wrath. And I donned the jacket yet again and it wasn't enough so I threw on the windbreaker and that seemed to do the trick and I continued along, following the sluggish line of hikers makin' the final push to the summit.
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| At the saddle |
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| An interesting section of trail |
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| Mt. Timanogos summit ahead |
Some folks came prepared. Had the puffy jackets, gloves, beanies, trekking poles, the whole 9 yards. Other folks, ehh, not so much. A lot of 'em were wearing shorts, their legs speckled with goosebumps. Some folks, the more serious type, wore nothin' but a sun hoody, shorty shorts and trailrunners. These were the professionals, traveling fast and light, their legs featured and fit, sunglasses on their faces, Garmin watches tracking every move. They sat high and mighty above all us casual hikers. And they looked damn cold, bwahaha.
And so I followed the crowds, people passin' me, me passin' people. Not too sure how this worked out, but I managed to get to the top when nobody else was there. Had the whole thing to myself, at least for a little while. I hunkered down in the little shelter on the summit, the inside of which looked like the bathroom stall at an underfunded high school. So much ink, so much art, so many designs, so many names. And I looked around and the views were fantastic and I munched on another Clif Bar and I rested and enjoyed the fruits of my labor, scanning the horizon from one side to the other.
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| Slightly northeast, Emerald Lake down there |
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| Northwest |
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| Southeast; South Timp left |
Couldn't stay up there forever though. Had more planned for the day, and I was feelin' pretty good all things considered. So I backtracked down the trail to the saddle and picked up the use trail that would take me to the next destination of the day: North Timpanogos.
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| On my way to North Timpanogos |
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| North Timpanogos |
Alone, isolated; not a soul around. Not even the sounds of Mr. CHEE HOO were there. Nothin' but a pleasant walk along a pleasant ridge in the pleasant wind and pleasant sun, civilization to my left, wilderness to my right. Up and down, down and up; I hit a few bumps along the way, Peak 11288 and Bomber Peak respectively. Not a whole lot to say about those two peaks. They were kinda like a bonus treat, like finding an onion ring in your order of fries.
But soon I had to focus up 'cause North Timp came into view and it looked mighty mighty steep. By now the wind was startin' to wear me down and I was feelin' a little peckish and I was strongly regretting my decision to not bring trekking poles, but, ehh, whaddyagonnado? So I scurried on down to the base of North Timp and then, with my head down and mind empty, banged out the last little bit of steepness to the summit.
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| North Timpanogos Summit |
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| Looking back at Mt. Timpanogos |
I plopped down behind the wind shelter once I'd reached the top. Sat around, stretched the legs, checked out the register, you know, typical summit stuff like that. I spent much longer on North Timp than I did on Timpanogos; why, I do not know. There was just something about it that tickled my fancy. Strong winds, everything nice and bright, crazy peaks in almost any direction I looked. Good stuff, good stuff. But like any mountain, I had to leave. And so, reluctantly, I said goodbye to the summit and took my time following the long, mellow, isolated ridge back to the saddle.
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| Heading back to the saddle... |
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| Bomber Peak |
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| Heading off the saddle... |
Back at the saddle, I hopped on the trail and followed it back to that boulder field, elated to finally be out of the wind. Once again the jacket was removed. Whether or not it would be donned once again was to be determined.
And I hopped through the talus/boulder field, following one cairn after another, until I reached a spot where I'd ditch the trail in order to scamper up the southwest ridge of Robert's Horn. Yup, I'd seen it all that morning and I'd seen it from Timpanogos and North Timp and I was like, "ehh, I'll check it out." And so I did.
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| Southwest ridge of Robert's Horn |
The goats I saw that morning were still there, all of 'em still munchin' on the gras, still carrying on without a care in the world. And I once again gave them a wide berth as I scampered off-trail up the southwest ridge of Robert's Horn. My legs had grown accustomed to eating vert by this point, so I banged out the short and steep romp to the summit in no time. A little class 2 here and there along the way, but nothing too insane. Once atop, I sat on down and took in the views and watched the clusters of ladybugs sprinkled around the rocks doing whatever it was they were doing. I'd never seen so many ladybugs all clustered up like that. Maybe it was for warmth or something. I don't know.
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| Looking east, Elk Point right |
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| View northwest, North Timp center left |
Situated next to some little ol' rocks was the tiniest register I've ever come across; even smaller than the one Liam and I found on
Vulture Peak back in 2022. The pages in the booklet were about the length of my ring finger. Real,
real small. Placed in 2024, the thing had very few entries. The last one, funny enough, was from that very same day. The one before that, however, was from July 27th. Seems like this spot gets a few visitors every couple of months.
So I left my marks, closed it up, took one last look around, and then began a quick descent back to the trail. On my way down, wouldn't you know it, oh my lucky days, could it be? I heard a piecing howl slicing through the air: "CHEE HOO." Unmistakable. So the wind didn't blow him away after all. And I heard it again two more times, a little quieter, moving farther away. I tried to spy him from up there on the southwest ridge, but, just like that morning, I was unable to see him. And soon his screams were no more and I never heard him again for the rest of the day. Goodbye, Mr. CHEE-HOO. I hope all your screaming dreams come true.
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| Elk Point; I went up to the saddle on the right |
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| Super steep and loose up to the saddle |
And I walked on down the trail and I had just enough energy to climb one more peak: Elk Point. Didn't have no beta on it or nothin'; I just saw it over in the distance and assumed it wouldn't be too difficult. Hardy, har, har, har. How naive of me. Of course it wasn't easy. Of course it turned out to be the most difficult peak of the day. But whatever. I climbed it anyway.
I left the trail, aiming for a prominent saddle. Super steep and loose and grassy up to that saddle; found myself grabbing onto bushes and stuff to haul me up the slope. Maybe it was because I'd already done so much earlier that day that made this peak such a slog. Or maybe it's genuinely just a slog. I don't know. It kicked my ass regardless.
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| At the saddle, time for some scrambling |
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| Ridge walk to the summit |
And I got to the saddle and sat on my haunches and took a quick break, gathering my wits and stuff before the final push to the summit. Once ready, I got up, made a left, and headed up the southwest ridge of Elk Point. Steep, somewhat loose class 2 terrain greeted me with a smile and a laugh. I took my sweet time heading up that ridge; the day's festivities of steep inclines and heavy wind was finally wearing down the ol' legs. Plus I had some pretty bad chaffing as well but nobody wants to know about that and so I won't mention it again.
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| Ladybug clusters |
Finally, after what seemed like a long time, I reached the summit that, like Robert's Horn, was covered in ladybug clusters. No register up there; just a large cairn full of sharp, pointy rocks. I stood around, gazing at the views in all cardinal directions. I could see every peak I'd climbed that day, could see the parking lot far, far below, could see the rolling, precipitous peaks of the Wasatch Range extending before me to the north and south. A part of me wished I had a hang glider or something so that I could simply jump off the mountain and float on down to the parkin' lot. But that would be too easy. I got myself up this thing. And I was damn sure gonna get myself down.
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| Parking lot wayyy down there on the left |
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| North |
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| Northwest |
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| Southwest |
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| South |
Once satiated, I waved goodbye to the summit and headed back down to the saddle, careful not to roll an ankle on all the loose rocks. Back at the saddle, down the grassy slopes, off to the trail, down, down, down. Oh man. My legs were feelin' it. I'd only brought two Clif Bars to fuel me on this expedition. I figured it would be enough to get me up Timpanogos, which, if that was the only thing I visited that day, would be enough. But I got caught up in the moment and I enjoyed the meal of the mountains a little too much and bit off a little more than I could comfortably manage, gorging myself until I felt just a wee bit sick. But no matter. I zoomed down through Primrose cirque and steamed through the switchbacks all the way back to the parking lot where I had a bag of tortilla chips and some hot sardines to look forward to.
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| Headin' down, Elk Point hogging the frame |
After sittin' in the parking lot munchin' on chips and sardines, I hopped in the car and drove down the road, out of the mountains, back into civilization. Got me a carne asada burrito. Thing was dry as can be, but I was starvin', so I didn't care. After that I drove back into the mountains, parking at the trailhead for the next stupid adventure I had planned for the morning. The day had been a long one: twenty miles and change with over 8,000ft of elevation gain. Yikes. Quite the main course it was, especially after the monster appetizer I had the day prior.
I was stuffed full, filled to the brim. But you always gotta save room for dessert. Hopefully, with a good night's rest, I'd have that room. So I brushed my teeth, chugged some water, set up the pad and bag and promptly conked out at the late late hour of 8pm. I needed all the sleep I could get.
